Everyday life as a Domina

Tag Archives: butt plug

Yesterday, I was bummed that sissy wouldn’t be able to come over, but I wasn’t about to let that ruin my day. I was so excited about the shiny, jeweled butt plug she’d given me, and I couldn’t wait to use it.

Kazander was less than enthused.

“It’s big!” he exclaimed.

Pfft.

It is not big. But his ass has been a bit neglected lately, so it would probably take some time to stretch him back out.

It’s a good thing I’m a persistent bitch, innit?

We still had the afternoon and evening without the spawn, and I was absolutely going to take advantage of it.

I made him take his clothes off, then sat down on the couch next to him, holding the plug and the lube in my hands, a grin on my face.

He looked up from his laptop, met my gaze, then sighed, setting the computer down and spreading his legs.

Such a good boy.

His ass really has gotten tight from lack of use, and it took a long time to work the plug inside him. I have no doubt that he was hoping I’d give up, and let him use something smaller. But he knew better than that, and took it (more or less) without complaint.

Finally, I got it in, and he tensed up, groaning and panting, lying on his side on the couch, his knees curled to his chin, hands balled into fists, trying to adjust to the size of the plug that now filled him.

“Whose ass is this?” I asked him.

“It’s yours, Mistress,” he replied, his voice strained. I smiled.

“Well good!” I said cheerfully, spanking him lightly as I got to my feet. I looked down at him, watching as he straightened out, his movements very slow and very deliberate.

Poor thing… He was in pain.

The least I could do was help him take his mind off of it.

I was wearing a black tank top and a black-and-white maxi skirt. It just so happened that I wasn’t wearing a goddamn thing under the skirt (which he wasn’t aware of) so as he turned to lie on his back, I threw a leg over him, alongside his head, and pulled the skirt up to my waist.

Before he could react, he found himself being smothered by my pussy.

He knew what to do. He didn’t need to be told. Obediently, he stuck out his tongue, dutifully licking me as I rode him, running my fingers through his hair and telling him what a sweet little whore he is. Occasionally I’d reach back and play with his dick (or slap it around), enjoying his moans against my body.

But I was horny, and wanted to cum. So I grabbed him by his hair and dragged him to the bedroom, where I lied down on the bed and pulled his face between my legs. He grunted with the pain of me pulling his hair, but immediately quieted once his tongue was back on me, and my grip on him loosened.

He licked me to an orgasm, then licked me clean, then I turned to my side so he could worship my ass as I came down from the orgasm.

Finally, I sighed happily, and pushed him away, and sat up. I clipped the shock collar around his dick and balls, grabbed the remote, and went back out to the living room. Other than occasionally bending over in front of him, shoving my ass in his face, I didn’t really pay much attention to him.

He was able to keep the plug in for about two hours before it started hurting too much, and he needed to take it out. He bent over, tense and panting once more, bracing himself for the removal.

I gripped the base tightly. “Take a deep breath,” I told him.

Then I pulled the plug out in one smooth motion.

And his scream sent chills straight to my groin.

After the pain subsided, he took a deep breath, sighed, and straightened up, reaching out to hug me. I wrapped my arms around him, held him close and comforted him, then pressed the button on the remote, sending a nasty shock through the collar.

After that, I more or less left him alone, giving him time to recover, occasionally pressing the button on the remote, loving his reaction every time I did.

It wasn’t until late, after we knew that the spawn was asleep and wouldn’t come back out, that I grabbed him once again and took him to the bedroom. I made him get on all fours on the edge of the bed, his head down against the sheets, his ass high in the air, his collared dick and balls hanging down.

I spent a few minutes spanking him, paddling him, flogging him, and shocking him. When I gently brushed the tip of a finger against his exposed hole, his gasp made me grin.

“What’s the matter?” I asked sweetly. “A little sore?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

I lubed up my finger and gently, softly rubbed it against his sore and stinging hole. When I slowly pushed it inside him, he gasped and moaned, squirming.

I fingered him gently for a bit, occasionally shocking him to make him squirm some more.

Then, I wanted to cum again. So I pulled him back between my legs, still holding the remote in my hand.

And I bucked against him, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and holding him against me, moaning and writhing. If I felt like he wasn’t doing a good enough job, I shocked him again, turning the setting up to make sure I got his attention. For awhile there, I think I forgot that he was an actual person, and was instead just a mouth and a tongue to take my pleasure from.

When I finally came, I lied back on the bed, panting and sweating, and he crawled up my body to rest his head on my shoulder.

He really was such a good boy. I thought about letting him cum to reward him.

My little sissy came over to play. It was the first time I got to see her en femme, and she’s just as adorable dressed femininely as she is dressed as a man.

I took her into the bedroom, and immediately wanted to devour her. My desire and lust have been through the fucking roof lately, and I couldn’t keep my hands off of her. I bent her over the bed, hiked up her mini-skirt, pushed her panties to the side, and pushed the tip of a finger into her dry. She was so warm, so tight, so inviting. That ache in me was getting almost unbearable.

I groped her, running my hands all over her hips, thighs, waist, stomach, ribs, everything. I rubbed her little dick, teasing and playing.

Then, I pulled her panties and her fishnets down, reached over to the pump of lube on top of my dresser, lubed up three fingers, and shoved them into her. Her adorable little breathless moans did nothing but fuel that ache, fuel my desire, and amp up my sadism to ridiculous levels.

I originally had a general sort of “plan” for what I wanted to while she was here, but all of that went out the window once my Domspace kicked in and the sadistic side of me came out to play. I wanted to hurt her. I wanted her to gasp and moan and writhe in pain.

I tend to get what I want. But still, this was my first time playing with her, and I really do prefer to keep things a little bit more mild the first time or two. She told me she used to be a hardcore masochist (like being-suspended-from-hooks-stuck-into-the-flesh-of-her-back hardcore… like goddamn) but that she’d kind of gotten away from that. So I didn’t know where she stood as far as being hurt. I decided I’d satisfy my sadistic urge, but I’d go just a little easy on her as well.

So I told her to take off her shoes, take off the skirt and panties, and lie down on the bed. I tied her wrists down, blindfolded her, and grabbed a few of my “insertables.”

I started with the smallest first, as I always do, although in her case, I knew just from fingering her that she probably would’ve been able to take my strap-on without needing to be worked up to it. I slid the vibe inside her and grabbed my Wartenburg Wheel, pressing it hard against her skin and running it up and down her ribs, inner thighs, balls, and dick.

She was gasping and squirming so deliciously. And when I reached down to turn the vibe on, I damn near came right then from her reaction. I fucked her with it for a few moments, loving the soft, shivering noises she made.

Then I pulled out my bag of clothespins. They’re just crappy little plastic ones that don’t have a lot of bite to them, but they’d work for what I wanted.

Starting at the head of her dick, I began clipping them on her, working my way down her shaft and to her balls. By the time I was done, she had 34 of them on her, and was rock hard and dripping like crazy. So I rubbed her head with my fingertip while the vibe whirred away inside her, eliciting lots of fantastic moaning, trembling, and squirming.

Which was fucking awesome.

Finally, I started taking them off, pulling them one by one. They don’t have a lot of bite, but they have enough to hurt when being pulled off.

But my sadism wasn’t satisfied. I took the vibe out of her and replaced it with my strap-on, which she took easily. Too easily.

So I have this plug. I bought it for that night, but never got around to using it. And it’s so big, I would probably end up breaking someone (and not in the good way) if I had tried to use it on any of the anal virgins I’d played with most recently. So it’s been lying, lonely and neglected, in the bottom of my toy bag.

I took it out and lubed it up.

And I’ve got to hand it to her. She was a trooper. She ended up not being able to take the whole thing (and I tried for awhile), but she got damn close. Closer than I thought she’d be able to. And seriously, she’s fucking adorable when she’s in pain. It fueled my desire even more, and made me push her even harder to take more and more of it. She squirmed, she writhed, she would push herself up higher on the bed, trying to get away from me.

Fucking hawt.

Then, I decided to take pity on her, and stopped pushing. The way she was lying on the bed, I could leave it halfway inside her, and the bed kept it from coming out. So I grabbed my trusty Thunderstick and pressed it against her dick, turning it on and letting her enjoy it for a minute. She started squirming again, fucking herself on the plug, pushing it deeper and deeper inside her.

But the thing I love most about the Thunderstick is that it can be so nice, but it can be so very mean…

The Hitachi doesn’t hold a candle to it. I’ve made people scream from it. Hell, even I can barely handle it turned up just over halfway. The highest setting is downright fucking evil, and I’m convinced it was designed specifically to use to torment bound subs who can’t get away.

Hitachi who?

Sissy got a taste of that. I’d already kind of tortured the hell out of her, so I didn’t hold the wand against her for more than a couple of seconds before turning it back down to the nice, sweet, friendly settings.

And then, I wanted to fuck her. I buckled into my strap-on, untied her, took the plug out of her, and bent her over the bed once again. I fucked her for a moment before telling her to play with herself. I wanted her to cum with me inside her.

I grabbed her by her hips, pounding against her, pulling her back against me with every thrust. She’s about my height, but so slender and little, and she sounds so lovely when she’s being fucked. It didn’t take her long to cum, and didn’t take me long to figure out that she’s insanely sensitive after cumming, which you know I took advantage of.

But then, finally, I let her go and let her get dressed. We chatted for a few minutes, and then she surprised me again by grabbing a small book out of her purse and handing it to me.

During our first meeting, we discovered that we’re both fans of Luis Royo, but that I don’t actually own any of his stuff. So she got me one of his sketchbooks to – as she put it – start my collection (happy squeal).

Kazander and I were discussing my desire to get the spawn a pet. I really wanted her to have a pet. Sure, she’s got the betta fish in her room (she named him Blpblplb, because that’s what happens when a 3-year-old names something). But the kid needs a pet.

I wanted to get her a dog. But we share our backyard with his family, who lives next door, and none of them want a dog. My reaction, of course, was “fuck ’em,” but kazander thinks I’m “too mean” when dealing with his family. Continue reading →

I happen to be a huge fan of anal play. There’s just something so thrilling about shoving something in a man’s ass. Strap-ons, butt plugs, dildos, vibrators, lit candles (and with that, I think I just figured out what I’m going to do to kazander tonight)… Anything that can be shoved up there, you can probably count on me to shove up there. What can I say? It’s fun.

Surprisingly enough, kazander was not always the butt-slut he is today. When we first met, he wasn’t particularly thrilled about anal play, but he was willing to tolerate it because I wanted it. Now, however, he loves it. He tries to deny it, but there have been occasions where he even begged for it. And it’s so awesome when he begs for something I was going to do anyway. So many possibilities.

It’s humiliating for him, too, which is all the more appealing. I love bending him over and fucking him like a bitch. It’s a definite psychological thrill. And it gives me all sorts of opportunities to say mean and cruel things to him. Ahh, I love that pillow-talk.

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All pictures posted on this blog are either taken by me or shamelessly swiped from the interwebs and assumed to be public domain. If you own a picture posted here and wish it taken down, please contact me at dominajen@yahoo.com.

What this blog is

This is an 18+ blog about my day-to-day life as a Domina, wife, mother, and all that other crap. A chronicle of me. While this blog focuses primarily on the D/s aspect of my life and my relationships with Kazander, Steel, and Sounder, it is not exclusive to that subject, and I might talk about my kid, or my annoying mother, or my sister's pet cat, or whatever the hell I feel like talking about.

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Sounder’s Blog: soundslikejesseblog

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Steel is no longer my sub, but his blog is still wonderful, and worth reading.

Steel’s Blog: Grind_'n'_Throb

It begins over a friendly disagreement, during which you smile, roll your eyes, and say, “Go fuck yourself.”

“But, Ma’am, that’s physically impossible.”

You smirk and ask how certain I am of this. On a roll, I launch into a smug and tangential rant about the anatomical impossibility of an individual’s being capable of fucking oneself. Your response is to merely shrug, smile, and make a cryptic statement:

“Don’t be so sure…”

Later that evening, you tell me bedtime will be early, an hour early to be exact. The amused look on your face says it would be in my best interests not to argue.

Sometimes I fall into a vicious cycle where I’m mentally and emotionally frustrated and cannot manage to channel that energy into productive avenues. In the old days, this would lead to drinking or drugs, but I don’t do that anymore. Instead, I try to go about my day, generally fail to complete mundane tasks and end up feeling ‘stuck’ – this progresses into a cycle of mild depression, feelings of inertia, guilt over said inertia, and then on and on it goes until something snaps me out of it.

It feels like I’m seated in a car stuck in neutral yet compelled to rev the engine until it screams.

When did I last curl up in her lap? It’s been so long, I cannot recall. Despite numbered boxcars on the calendar and the disinterested faces of clocks, a concrete memory eludes me. Time, location, and date, they’re merely three dimensions after all.